Chapter 3 - The Red Mark
Adrian turned his back on his wife immediately.
Lily stood on the lowest step of the stone terrace. Noah was sitting beside her on the cold slate, his thumb stuffed into his mouth, his face streaked with tears and gray grime. Lily’s lips were trembling, her bottom lip split from biting down on it to keep from screaming.
Adrian closed the distance between them in three massive strides. He dropped to both knees on the hard stone, setting down his briefcase, and pulled both children into his arms. The impact of their small, frail frames hitting his chest nearly knocked the breath out of him.
“I’m here,” Adrian whispered, burying his face in Lily’s messy hair. “I’ve got you. Daddy’s right here.”
Lily began to weep uncontrollably, her fingers knotting into the fabric of his shirt. “She said… she said animals belong outside, Daddy. She said you wouldn’t believe us. She said you paid for peace and we were useless.”
Adrian pulled back slightly to look at his daughter. As he reached to wipe a smudge of dirt from her cheek, his fingers brushed her left wrist. Lily winced, pulling her arm back with a sharp gasp.
Adrian caught her hand gently by the fingertips and turned her forearm over.
A thick, dark purple ring of bruised finger marks circled the child’s tiny wrist, with distinct half-moon indentations where long acrylic nails had broken the surface of the skin. Blood had crusted in tiny scabs along the bruising.
A heavy silence descended over the terrace.
Near the back glass doors, Martha, the head housekeeper who had worked for the Vance family for over twelve years, stood holding a linen tray. Her eyes were wide with shock, her hands trembling so severely that the silver on the tray clattered against the porcelain. Beside the flower beds, Carlos, the senior groundskeeper, dropped his pruning shears onto the dirt with a dull thud.
Vanessa rushed up the steps, her voice pitched with frantic, theatrical concern. “Oh my God! Lily, honey, what happened to your arm? Adrian, she must have caught it on the garden gate when they were running! I told her a hundred times not to climb on that rusty iron—”
“Shut up,” Adrian said.
He didn't shout. He spoke with the cold, absolute authority of a man issuing an execution order.
Vanessa stopped speaking instantly. Her mouth remained slightly open, her polished facade cracking down the middle.
“Martha,” Adrian said, not looking away from the bruise on his daughter’s arm. “Take Noah and Lily upstairs. Call Dr. Evans. Have him come to the estate immediately to examine both of them and document every single mark.”
“Right away, Mr. Vance,” Martha whispered, stepping forward with tears in her eyes. She carefully lifted Noah, whose head fell heavily against her shoulder, and took Lily by her uninjured hand.
Lily looked back at her father as she was led toward the French doors. “Daddy… the cameras. She said she turned them off.”
Vanessa’s eyes flickered with a sudden, venomous spark before she masked it behind a wall of offended innocence. “Adrian, this is completely insane. The children are clearly traumatized from some accident in the yard and they’re projecting onto me! If you think for one second that I would ever lay a finger on your children, you are insulting my character. I have given up my life to take care of this home!”
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Adrian slowly stood up. He reached into his inner suit pocket and pulled out his private smartphone.
“Let’s see what your character looks like on forty-two cameras, Vanessa.”
